


Sarek and Amanda, Meet Sevel and Adrian

by bookmuncher



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-10 15:19:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11129484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookmuncher/pseuds/bookmuncher
Summary: It’s well known that ion storms and transporters never mix well; so when Amb. Sarek and his wife, Amanda, are beamed aboard during such a storm it isn’t a huge shock when things go wrong and they end up with more than 2 people. Meet Amb. Sevel and her husband, Adrian. As if have one set of parents on board wasn’t trying enough, Spock is now being…What? Swapped?! Mother!





	1. (Unexpected) Arrivals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple facts readers should know:  
> *This takes place approximately 14 months after Journey to Bable.  
> ~According to most (‘authorized’/cannon) sites, Amanda was born in born 2210, and Spock was born January of 2230, meaning Amanda had to have been 19 when she was pregnant and later gave birth. Assuming her pregnancy was not shorter or longer than 4 months, she had to have conceived when she was 18/just turning 19.  
> *Amanda was/is a school teacher.  
> ~Sarek was born in 2165 and is 45 years older than Amanda.  
> *Spock has a half-brother (on his father’s side), called Sybok who only appears in the movie "Star Trek the Final Frontier." According to most (‘authorized'/cannon) sites, Sybok is 6 years older than Spock.  
> *Males and females think and act (and react) differently, this will be reflected in the characters.  
> ~Addendum: primary core traits cannot be changed; suppressed, redirected, given different form, yes. This will be reflected in the characters.

* * *

            _ **DISCLAIMER!**_ "Star Trek" is and always shall be, the property of its creators/distributors.

* * *

             “So, Spock, ready for another adventure with your parents?” McCoy asked as they made their way to the Transporter Room.

            “We are simply acting the role of courier, Doctor, transporting them from one ship to another,” Spock stated. “I hardly believe that qualifies as an ‘adventure’.”

            “Well, I suppose it would be hard to top their last visit,” McCoy admitted with a grunt, tugging at the collar of his uniform. “How is your old man, anyway? Heart still going strong?”

             “If by ‘old man,’ you are referring to my father then, yes; his health is quite satisfactory. As such your concern, while admirable, is entirely unneeded.”

             “I’ll decide what is and isn’t needed,” McCoy huffed, ignoring Spock’s slightly drier than normal tone. “And it never hurts to be prepared.”

             “Which is why he has a bed reserved for me, you, and probably a spare all set up for your father,” Kirk added, having overheard their last few comments as he walked up.

             “Ingrates,” McCoy muttered.

             “Now gentlemen, Mr. Scott has informed me that the modification to the transporters are complete, so if you’d care to join me?” Kirk led the way into the Transporter Room, McCoy and Spock trailing behind him.

             “Ready when you are, captain,” Scotty called, fingers twitching over the keys while an assistant stood by, idly twirling a tool between his fingers as he waited.

            “Energize,” Kirk ordered, giving his dress uniform one last tug and brush.

            “Energizing,” Scotty murmured, and the familiar ringing hum and buzz filled the room.

            “Should it be taking this long?” McCoy whispered after several minutes had passed.

            “The systems’ star is in a state of flux, causing it to emit rather erratic waves of radiation,” Spock explained. “Which, if not properly compensated for, could cause interference with the transporter beam resulting in an. . .unpleasant outcome.”

             “Hmph! Considering it scrambles peoples’ molecules it’s a miracle the blasted thing doesn’t cause more ‘unpleasant outcomes’,” McCoy muttered.

             The transporter pad lights flared and flickered as the ever present hum reached an almost pitch, drowning out Scotty’s quiet cursing.

             “Report!” Kirk shouted, rubbing his ears to rid them of the ringing.

             “The energy beam spiked, sir,” Scotty replied, already directing his assistant to a panel.

             “What of the energy patterns?” Spock asked.

             “Yeh nea have to worry, Mr. Spock, I got their pattern all safe an’ suspended,” Scotty reassured. “There do be a wee bit of a problem though.”

             “And that is?” Kirk asked tightly.

             “When da beam spiked we gained a few extra patterns,” Scotty answered. “Almost looks like da patterns ‘ave duplicated, but that nea quite right an’ there’s too much left over.”

             “Great, with our luck just some mutual ‘friends’ who’d love to shoot us,” McCoy groused, and a quick exchange of looks confirmed both Kirk and Scotty were also recalling their time in the much darker reality.

             “Any way to tell who, or what, we picked up?” Kirk asked.

             “No, sir, not until we re-materialize them,” Scotty answered. “But, Cap’ain, we can nea wait long. There’s a lot o’ over lap, an’ the longer we wait the harder it’ll be teh untangle.”

             Kirk glanced between the engineers and his very stiff looking first officer.

             “Very well, Mr. Scott, bring the ambassador and his wife aboard. Mr. Spock, alert security.”

             “Aye, Cap’ain.”

             “Yes, sir.”

             Within minutes Sarek and Amanda were re-materialized. Spock guided them quickly out of the room with a quiet explanation as the security team stationed themselves around the pad, phasers ready.

             “All right, Mr. Scott, let’s get a look at our unexpected guests.”

             “Aye.”

             The transporter flared to life again, the shower of lights fading to reveal four people paired together on the nearest two pads. On the left stood a tall Vulcan woman dressed in regal formal robes, hands lightly resting on the shoulders of a young Vulcan girl. On the right was another Vulcan child, though she was much younger and being balanced on the hip of a very Human looking man. At the sight of children the guards wavered slightly and lowered their phasers, though they maintained a protective wall between the unknowns and the rest of the room.

            “Well, that took a ridiculously long amount of time,” the man said with air of exasperated irritation as he gently disentangled himself from the small girl and passed her off to the woman. “And _you_  are not Captain Nimoy.”

           The last was directed at Kirk who took it has his cue to step forward.

           “I am Captain James T. Kirk of the Federation star ship _Enterprise_ ,” Kirk stated, gesturing for the guards to back away as he moved to greet the man who seemed oddly familiar.

           “Well, Captain James T. Kirk of the Federation star ship _Enterprise_ , this is a wholly unexpected, and I must say, rather unpleasant surprise,” the man replied in a cheerful yet slightly apologetic tone, lightly bouncing on his toes as he placed himself between the Vulcan females and the rest of the room. “You see, we _were_ in the process of beaming aboard a Viridian cruiser and now we find ourselves _here_ : aboard an _unknown_ ship, with an _unknown_ crew, for _unknown_ reasons, surrounded by people who seem to think pointing phasers at **_my family_** is a good idea.”

           “Dismissed,” Kirk ordered curtly.

           A few of the guards shifted uneasily as they walked away as despite the man’s laid back smile he radiated anger and the thin scar cutting down his face set their teeth on edge; but, there were children involved so they weren’t too keen on getting into a fight. Spock slid into the room before the doors closed, eyeing the new comers curiously.

           “Now then, I don’t believe I caught your name,” Kirk said pointedly.

           “Ah, excellent point, excellent point indeed,” the man nodded, idly rocking back on his heels as his eyes flicked over the room. “However, before we get to those pesky little details, I have a few questions. Firstly,” the man strolled to the edge of the pad, staring curiously at Spock. “This is a Constitution class ship, yes?”

           “Correct,” Kirk agreed warily.

           “ _Nm, Hm_. I see, and the exact designation of this ship is?”

           “ _NCC 1701, Enterprise_. Constitution class,” Spock answered. “Further specification is restricted to authorized personnel only.”

           “Naturally,” the man agreed easily, before clapping his hands together and sending the room a bright smile that was all teeth. “Well, my name is Adrian Grayson.”

            In the surprised silence that followed he strolled to the edge of the dais, expression hardening as he loomed over Kirk.

            “And I’m rather curious how we ended up on ship whose construction isn’t scheduled to be completed for another **8 years**.”

            Three thoughts flashed across Kirk’s mind. One, he now knew why the man looked so familiar. Two, he was going to ban transporter use during all ion/radiation storms. Three, Command really needed to update the Academy’s CO course, because none of the lectures he’d sat through prepared him for messes like this. Oh, and four, he felt a massive headache coming.

             All in all, Kirk thought McCoy summed up the situation quite nicely with his perfectly timed, “Well, shit.”


	2. Face to Face

* * *

**Note:** This story takes place roughly 14 months after the events of the episode Journey to Bable

* * *

 

Captain’s log, Stardate 6922.33: _What was meant to be a simple transport mission to escort Ambassador Sarek and his wife to their next destination has become a potential disaster. Difficulties during transport have resulted in the addition of a Vulcan-Human family, the adults of which claim to be alternate versions of my First Officers’ parents. To complicate matters further they appear to be from a time nearly 3 decades in the past. Currently, my Chief Medical Officer is attempting to verify their claims._

* * *

 

       “Well, Jim, according to the analysis the DNA is an almost perfect match,” McCoy announced. “And if you were to ignore the differences brought on by gender, age, and standard lifestyle changes of such, they _would_ be a perfect match.”

       Kirk rubbed his temples in a vain effort to fight off the already painful headache.

       “Never a dull day,” he mused aloud.

       “Oh, I haven’t even gotten to the best part yet,” McCoy continued, sounding far too happy. “That girl, the little one? She’s a match for Spock!”

       Kirk’s mind twisted painful as it tried to connect the adorable – if unnaturally thin – toddler with his stiff and stern First Officer. It refused to compute.

       “Can you just imagine the look on the hobgoblin’s face when I tell him there’s a version of him that’s a little girl?” McCoy bounced lightly on his toes, looking positively gleeful at the prospect.

       “Let’s focus on getting them back where they belong,” Kirk ordered dryly as they entered what passed as a waiting room for Sick Bay where they saw the Vulcan woman questioning a cornered looking Scotty.

       “Cap’ain!” Scotty called, practically running from the woman. “I ‘ave da reports, but got – eh, ran intuh–”

       “I understand, Mr. Scott,” Kirk cut in, feeling the heavy weight of the stares from the Vulcan woman and her eldest daughter, knowing they could easily hear what they were saying. “Just leave them here and get a copy to Mr. Spock.”

       “Aye,” Scotty replied, side eyeing the Vulcans as he left, and Kirk cleared his throat to draw the attention of the two couples.

       “Now, my Chief Medical Officer has confirmed the fact that you are, indeed, alternate versions of. .each other.”

       “Fascinating,” two cool, calm voices intoned. “Not the word I’d use,” the male Grayson muttered, leaning against a bio-bed and peering curiously at his counterpart.

       “It is a little. . .odd,” Amanda agreed. “I must say I never imagined myself with curly hair.”

       “Consider yourself lucky. I can’t do a thing with mine,” the young man laughed, tugging at a wayward curl. “And might I say, madam, that I hope to look as fetching as you in 30 years.”

       “27.38 years, to be precise,” Sarek correct. The two Graysons shared an amused look.

       “I see he does it too,” the younger Grayson mused, giving Sarek a slow once over before turning to Amanda. “You’ll understand me when I say I prefer my version, yes?”

       “Just as well,” Amanda laughed, “as I have no intention of sharing mine.”

       McCoy snickered, earning a withering look from the two Vulcan ambassadors.

       “Naturally. Now, I believe proper introductions are long overdue. As I said before I am Adrian Grayson: over protective doting father, adoring devoted husband, and several much less important titles. I’d shake your hand, but…” Adrian shrugged with a careless sort of cheer as he flicked a pointed gaze toward Sarek and doffed an invisible hat. “And this angelic vision of divine loveliness you see behind me is my family.”

       Said ‘vision’ looked exceedingly unimpressed with their introduction.

       “Comprising of the beautiful light of my life, love of my soul, the–”

       “Ambassador Sevel,” the woman cut in, her tone –despite being flat– making it quite clear the flowery introduction was over.

       “My wife,” Adrian finished, with a completely unapologetic smile. “And our two amazing daughters, Sylen–”

       The older of the two children inclined her head and offered her parent’s counterparts the standard salute which Sarek solemnly returned.

       “–and Saavik.”

       The younger girl, whose head barely reached her mother’s knee, attempted to copy her sister, struggling slightly to order her fingers correctly and staring with open curiosity at the older couple. Sarek returned the gesture with just as much ceremony as he had the other two Vulcan females, while Amanda smiled widely and waved. Kirk cleared his throat.

       “If I may interrupt for just a moment? Now that we have a basic understanding of what has happened, my First Officer can start the process of devising a means of returning you to your rightful places.”

       “And this first officer of yours is qualified for this, _how_?” Adrian Grayson asked skeptically, arms crossed and eyeing the officers with a frown.

       “Because this first officer is also the chief science officer,” Spock said as he strode into the room, a PADD in one hand and a tricorder in the other. “I also happen to hold several degrees in space science including astrophysics and spacial auto-correlation, as well as having personal experience in both retrieving and returning individuals to the proper realities.”

       “Indeed?” Sevel stepped forward, hands clasped behind her back, while her husband scrutinized Spock with a frown. “Do such occurrences happen so often?”

       “This would be the second time such a transposition has taken place,” Spock stated, before adding, “to my knowledge.” “Intriguing.”

       Behind Sevel, Adrian turned to Amanda, whispering softly.

       “I would be most interested in hearing about this other occurrence. Should–”

       “ _That’s your son_?! You – what? _Really_! Honey, did you hear? We have a son in this reality!” Adrian bounded over to his wife, beaming happily and staring starry-eyed at Spock who looked as uncomfortable as Kirk had ever seen him.

       “I am/He is not you son,” three sharp Vulcan voices corrected.

       “Not _directly_ , no,” Adrian agreed, still grinning madly. “But blood is blood, and by blood he's family and none of you can argue _that_!”

       The two ambassadors and Spock exchanged glances that spoke volumes of how that planned to do exactly that.

       “Perhaps it would be better to think of us as estranged siblings?” Amanda suggested, ignoring her husbands’ raised brow and smiling gently at Adrian. Though there was a certain mischievous gleam in her eyes. “Long lost, yes, but still related?”

       “Excellently put, and would you really deny a man a chance to get to know his nephew/son?” Adrian asked, eyes wide with hope.

       “I have a father, and am in no need of another,” Spock replied stiffly.

       “A Vulcan father, yes,” Adrian agreed dismissively. “And while I’m certain my lovely counterpart fulfilled her role quite well, there are some things about Human culture you’ll only be able to learn from a Human male.”

       “I personally think it’s a wonderful idea,” Amanda added when it looked like Spock was going to continue protesting.

       “Mother, there is much work to be done if they are to return to their rightful place,” Spock protested. “The transporters need to be realigned, phase variances need to be calculated–”

       “My beautiful, talented wife happens to be an astrophysicist of the highest order, and is quite familiar with the minute details of our reality,” Adrian mused aloud. “I’d being willing to bet the process would be quite _fascinating_  as well.”

       “Indeed, and it just so happens my husband is also an astrophysicist!” Amanda exclaimed. “Why, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if they were able to handle those details.”

       “You know, I used to think the Lady Amanda was the quiet, compliant sort,” McCoy muttered, watching as the resident Vulcans grew stonier. “Ya know, the type that just follows along, but now I’m thinking I got it backwards and _she’s_ who Spock gets his tricky side from.”

       Kirk’s lips twitched in amusement.

       “There is also the recreation of the exact circumstances at the moment of transport,” Spock continued, staring resolutely past his mother and her counterpart. “It is also necessary to find a means to communicate the ships of the other reality to coordinate the transport.”

       “Well, the first sounds to be mostly luck and timing,” Amanda noted.

       “As for the other, I happen to be dab hand at communications,” Adrian supplied.

       “How splendid,” Amanda smiled. “Then your wife and my husband can work on the transporters with Mr. Scott – the chief engineer who I hear is quite skilled at his job. You and Spock can work on the communications together while I watch the girls.”

       “Superb idea!” Adrian agreed, and the resident Vulcans began protesting.

       “My wife, this hardly the proper time–”

       “–acting most illogical, my husband.”

       “Ko-mehk, are you truly going to allow this to happen–”

       “C’mon, Spock, don’t you want to get to know your,” brief, badly muffled laughter, “old man?”

       “Doctor, now is not the time–!”

       “Ouch!” Adrian yelped as a small, curly haired blur slammed into him, tiny limbs wrapping around his leg. “Saavik, you’re cutting off the circulation in my leg, easy up a bit, hon. Please?”

       Saavik loosened her hold but stayed stubbornly put, glaring with shocking amount of ferocity at Spock.

       “Saavik, control yourself,” Sevel ordered. “This display–”

       “Might be understandable,” Adrian interrupted softly but firmly, as he futilely tried to tug the tiny two year old off. “Doctor, might we borrow your office?”

       “Sure.” McCoy unlocked the door and waved him in.

       “Saavik, you can’t expect me to walk like this,” Adrian coaxed, gently shaking his captive limb.

       The mutinous look on the girl’s face suggested otherwise.

       “How ‘bout I carry you instead?”

       Saavik’s eyes flicked up to her fathers before darting back to Spock and narrowing suspiciously, but she nodded and let herself be scooped up. As soon as the door slid shut behind them, McCoy turned to Spock, eyes dancing with amusement.

       “I don’t think she likes you much.”

       “It would appear so,” Spock replied evenly.

       “My youngest has still to learn to control her emotional tendencies,” Sevel explained by way of apology. “She is particularly possessive of her father.”

       Kirk bit his tongue to keep himself from asking several undoubtedly inappropriately personal, by Vulcan standards at least, questions, and a sharp look at McCoy ensured he stayed mute as well. A tense silence filled the room until the office door slid open. McCoy grimaced in distaste at see the little girl with a reasonably blank face. To make a child suppress their emotions never would sit right with him; it was just too bloody unnatural. McCoy averted his eyes as the man slowly led his daughter back to the rest of the group.

       “…and think about it this way, you’re going to get an opportunity no one else in the entire universe is going to have.” Adrian said happily, propping Saavik on his hip so he could look her more easily in the eyes. “You’re going to know what your daddy’s like as a woman! And without all those pesky transvestite problems.”

       McCoy clapped a hand over his mouth, stifling a snort of laughter, and glanced at the resident Vulcans. Sarek and Spock were looking at Sevel with raised brows while the female ambassador briefly closed her eyes as if praying for patience. Both Amanda and Kirk looked caught somewhere between stunned and wanting to laugh.

       “Ko-mehk, he’s being unreasonably illogical again,” the older Vulcan girl very nearly hissed in irritation.

       “And, naturally, your sister will be joining you as it simply wouldn’t be fair of me not to include her in the experience,” Adrian continued, seemingly oblivious to the death glare his eldest daughter was directing at him as he stopped next to his wife. “Right?”

       “My husband, I find very little logic in this activity of your,” Sevel objected flatly, ignoring the tiny child at her side who was still peering suspiciously at Spock.

       “Think of this as a practical exercise in cultural anthropology,” Adrian suggested. At Sevel’s raised brow, he put Saavik down and turned to face both girls. “While you’re with my counterpart, practice your observational skills. How are we similar? Dissimilar? What of our speech patterns, are they alike or dis-alike? How? Do we move the same, act the same, and what of our mannerisms? Compare and contrast them. I’ve told you a few stories of my childhood; if you are polite then perhaps Amanda will tell you about hers?”

       Adrian glanced at Amanda who nodded, fighting back a smile as the children looked at her curiously.

       “As for you, Sylen, this is a good chance to show your little sister the scientific process in action.”

       Saavik looked sharply at her older sister, eyes silently pleading.

       “You are young, but if you listen to my instructions you will learn,” Sylen agreed, staring imperiously down at the younger girl. Saavik nodded with all the solemnity a two-year-old could manage.

       “It appears you have convinced our children,” Sevel stated, ignoring the triumphant smiles the two Graysons shared. “Now, how do propose to do the same for the remainder?”

       “That is my job,” Amanda answered, prompting several raised brows. She turned to Spock, who was standing so straight his spine looked in danger of snapping. “19 years, 7 months, 11 days, Spock. That’s how long it’s been since I’ve had a child in my house, and _I don’t like it_. So, unless you can provide me with a grandchild to spoil and coddle in the next 30 seconds you are going to cooperate.”

       “My wife,” Sarek began only to be cut off by Amanda’s raised hand.

       “My husband, I have one word for you.” Amanda turned and stared Sarek straight in the eye. “Bable.”

       Sarek blinked at his wife, gave his son a look that could only be interpreted as the Vulcan equivalent of ‘every man for himself,’ and nodded.

       “As my wife wishes.”

       Spock closed his eyes in defeat and Amanda smiled.

       “It seems you have once again managed to get your way, my husband,” Sevel conceded.

       “Only because you let me,” Adrian murmured, gently caressing her fingers as he walked past her to Sylen, leaning down to murmur quietly in her ear. “If possible would you–?”

       “Yes.”

       “Thanks, hon.” Adrian smiled and made to ruffle her hair, but Sylen leaned away and stared at him with an air of resigned irritation until her lowered his hand. With a sharp toss of her head, Sylen turned guided her sister over to Amanda, the fingers of one hand lingering for a moment near the younger girl’s temple.

       “Well, Spock was it?” Adrian clapped a hand on the taller man’s shoulder “Ready to spend some time with your old man?”

       “I am 37 years old, which I would estimate to be approximately 10 years older than,” Spock stated stiffly, side stepping out of reach.

       “Practically still a teen by Vulcan standards,” Adrian pointed out.

       “Yes,” Spock reluctantly agreed, gesturing for the group to follow him out of Sick Bay.

       “However, I do believe that means I have had ample time to cultivate experience beyond what you could add to.”

       “True enough, I s’pose.” Adrian hummed thoughtfully. “You married?”

       “No, he’s not,” Amanda called over her shoulder as she led the girls away.

       “Great, let’s talk women!”

       The doors to Sick Bay closed on Spock’s wide-eyed look, the closest thing to horrified he would allow himself to express, and McCoy burst into laughter.

       “I take it you’re enjoying this?” Kirk asked dryly, even as his own lips twitched with amusement.

       “J-Jim, if the universe ends today, I’ll die happy,” McCoy gasped, wiping tears of joy from his eyes. “This is the best day of my life!”

       “They are quite the comedic pair,” Kirk agreed, thinking of the stern, stoic Vulcan woman and the boyish, energetic Human man as he walked out of Sick Bay.


	3. Preconception, Misdirection, and an Accord

* * *

Chief Medical Officer’s (personal) Log, Stardate 6922.74: _The latest madness to hit the Enterprise is another set of counterparts, of Ambassador Sarek and his wife no less. Fortunately, whatever that blasted atomizer did – and haven’t I warned everyone a thousand times of the dangers of the blasted thing?! – at least we still have the set that’s supposed to be here, here with us instead of lost in some forsaken other reality. Curiously, they, the doubles that is, arrived with kids. Adorable little things but scrawny looking, practically skeletal! They kinda remind me of that old film maker – what was his name? Tom Barton? Burton? Something like that._

_Anyway, cute kids in a creepy kinda way. The oldest says she’s 9 point something or other, and the little one’s 2 according to her parents. Yep, parents. Little thing is half Human, half Vulcan, just like our dear first officer._

_Speakin’ of Spock, looks like he’s part of a kid swap. Damn near bust a gut laughing when that male Grayson, Adrian, started talking to him about women. PFT! As if the hobgoblin knows anything about that! Still, almost feel sorry for him, if it wasn’t so darn funny. Makes me wish they could stay a while. . . Ah, well, best make the most of it while I can! Better head to the Bridge then. Jim says Adrian’s got Spock trapped there and the hobgoblin’s about to blow!_

**Computer sub-not : _Doctor, once again, personal anecdotes must be restricted to your personal log, not the official one. See me if you need help transferring the file._**

**_Addendum by Head Nurse Chapel_.) **

* * *

       Spock was certain his controls had never been tested or strained quite so thoroughly as they were being by his mother’s counterpart. Fortunately, once they reached the Bridge the man had ceased questioning Spock about his past affiliations, and proved himself to be more than just a ‘dab hand’ at re-configuring the communications consul. Unfortunately, the man had not ceased offering advice, interspersed with personal anecdotes on the topic. That Dr. McCoy had followed and was openly encouraging the younger man by offering stories of his only compounded the problem in Spock’s opinion.

       “. . and that’s why you should never offer any food you haven’t seen her eat before,” Adrian advised, muffled voice floating out from under the communications consul.

       “Oh, my! Was she ok?” Uhura asked, flipping a switch.

       “The swelling went down after a week, but –vary the sequence by .3 to the higher order, Lt.”

       “Done.”

       “And, Spock –Ouch! Is that frequency algorithm matched yet?”

       “Negative,” Spock replied, eyes narrowing as he worked through several different calculations on his PADD.

       “Damn, let me try compressing the bandwidth again.” Adrian’s hand appeared and groped around. Spock silently slid the necessary tool within reach and it promptly disappeared under the consul. “Now, as I was saying. The swelling went down, but not before her hair fell out and boy was she pis –er, mad!”

       “I can well imagine,” Uhura muttered, tracing a lock of her own hair.

       “Hey, now, it wasn’t my fault!” Adrain protested. “I’ll have you know even _she_ didn’t know pineapple would have that effect.”

       “Yet another reason not to cook,” McCoy noted.

       “Suffice to say I have never been creative in the kitchen again,” Adrian grumbled. “Well, unless it’s for myself. What about you, Spock? Any allergy stories?”

       “With all due respect, sir,” Spock answered flatly, ignoring Uhura as she rolled her eyes as McCoy snickered at Spock’s continued refusal to call Adrian by name. . .or any of the man’s offered titles, “but time is of the essence and it is not logical to divide ones attention with non-essential conversation.”

       “Non-essential conversation,” Adrian repeated softly, sliding out just far enough to send Spock a look the officer couldn’t place yet had seen countless times on his mothers’ face. “You know, when I first met Sevel the word ‘non-essential’ came up so often I started keeping a tally. By the end of one particularly memorable day she’d used it 83 times, all but 12 of which were directed at me. I guess the similarities run deeper than blood.”

       Spock dropped his eyes back the PADD, steadfastly ignoring the small smile Adrian wore as he slid back under the consul and the uncomfortable look Uhura and McCoy exchanged.

       “I think –Yes, I’m going to have to temporarily re-polarize the multi-sublingual acutuator,” Adrian announced.

       “Doing so would destabilize the entire sensor grid,” Uhura cautioned.

       “Not if it’s rerouted though this thing right here.” Adrian waved in the vague direction of a particular set of wires, and Spock bent to look.

       “The secondary buffer coil,” Spock identified. “There is a possibility. However, it would switch the grid from active to passive.”

       “Just means a little more hands on work, but nothing un-doable,” Adrian noted. “And hopefully that will allow for those variations we need."

       Spock leaned back and mentally ran the calculations, before slowly nodding.

       “Very well, we can access the necessary grid on deck 27.”

       “I’m right behind you,” Adrian called, pocketing the tools as he wiggled out from under the consul and stood up.

       For a brief moment Spock was tempted to deny the man and request he remain on the Bridge, but a glance at the far too interested personnel convinced him otherwise. The walk to the turbo-lift was short but Spock used it to reinforce his controls as the shorter man trotted along next to him. He would never admit to the small thrill of satisfaction and relief he got when the lift doors closed before McCoy could join them. Silence fell, but Spock could feel the weight of the Human’s stare.

       “Call me crazy, but I get the distinct impression you don’t like me,” Adrian mused quietly, leaning against the wall and raising a brow at Spock.

       “To ‘like’ or ‘dislike’ would require an emotional response.”

       “Which would be illogical,” Adrian finished, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. “And yet, something about me does unsettle you, yes?”

       Spock’s eyes fastened on the panel opposite him as he sought the words he needed.

       “Your presence here is disruptive and unnatural to this universe,” Spock stated, watching the Human’s reflection and the slight tension in his shoulders easing when the other man just chuckled.

       “‘Disruptive and unnatural’, huh? Well, you’re not the first person to say that to me, and I rather doubt you’ll be the last.” Adrian ran a hand through his hair, causing the already messy curls to stick out in even greater disarray. “Hm, can’t do much about the unnatural part, save leave which is what I’m trying to do anyway. As for being disruptive…”

       Adrian tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly, and Spock was struck once again just how similar to his mother the man was. And how that particular look usually heralded unwanted commentary.

       “I’m rather surprised you haven’t figured it out yet,” Adrian murmured. “Granted, Sevel was clueless for years, but if Amanda and I are anything alike you should have grown up with it. That you don’t recognize what I’m doing is…odd.”

       Spock got the impression that wasn’t the word the man wanted to use, but dismissed the thought in favor of deciphering the rest of the man’s words.

       “What, precisely, am I meant to have ‘figured out’?” Spock asked stiffly as the lift slowed to a stop.

       “Why the method to the madness, of course!”

       Spock stared at the Human, whose amused smirk was unsettlingly similar to the one his mother wore when she had successfully confused his father. Though, seeing the lack of comprehension on Spock’s face, Adrian sighed.

       “You’ve got the damnable Vulcan pride, alright.”

       Spock’s grip on the lift control tightened slightly.

       “Don’t get twitchy,” Adrian huffed as they exited the lift. “You know it’s true.”

       “Be that as it may, what purpose does my. . pride have in this discussion?”

       Adrian rolled his eyes.

       “Better question, do I look threatening to you?”

       Spock blinked at the abrupt non-sequitur, but at the younger man’s expectant look complied and cast his eye over him.

       “No,” Spock answered bluntly. “You lack sufficient muscle mass to pose a danger. Neither are you flexible nor dexterous enough to compensate. Your behavior appears erratic and undisciplined, but given you are Human that is not an adequate judge of your intelligence.”

       Left unsaid but heavily implied was that, that too was lacking. Adrian’s lips twitched with a barely suppressed smile.

       “Let’s assume for a moment that all of that, but particularly my ‘erratic and undisciplined behavior’ is all an act, what possible purpose could it serve?”

       “I see little logic in acting a fool,” Spock answered crisply as he unlocked the control room door.

       “Then you are being singularly narrow minded,” Adrian retorted as he strolled past Spock into the room. “You, like most Vulcans, suffer from a rather debilitating case of literalism. Such a shame too, you people would have gone so much farther in, well everything, if you just broadened your minds a bit.”

       Spock’s hold on his tool kit tightened unconsciously as he swept past the Human to the necessary panel.

       “Misdirection, Commander, can be a very useful thing, especially when one plays on preconceptions and pride,” Adrian commented. “Though naturally, _you_ know all about that, don’t you? After all, the son of such an accomplished ambassador not to mention a Human couldn’t _possibly_ be so woefully _inept_ at basic Human idioms unless it was by _choice_. Could he?”

       Spock slowly turned to face the man, who stared back with a slightly tilted head and wide eyes, lips quirking faintly. . .An expression nearly identical to the one his mother got when she successfully cornered either himself or his father. Spock did not like that seeing the look on the man’s face affected him almost as much as when it came from his mother.

       “Tell you what, let’s make a deal: I won’t tell anyone about your, ah, habits, and I’ll even curb my ‘erratic and undisciplined behavior,’ _if_ you agree to make an honest effort determine any logical reason for my behavior. Deal?”

       Spock’s lips thinned, but the ‘deal’ was not as restrictive as it could have been.

       “Is there a deadline to my side of the. .deal?”

       “Before I leave seems reasonable,” Adrian answered, amused, and Spock’s initial reluctance wavered.

       “Very well,” Spock conceded. “We have an accord.”

       “Don’t strain yourself,” Adrian drawled as he pushed himself off the wall. “Now, about this actuator?”


	4. Family History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things to know for this chapter:
> 
> ~ Sybok was considered a prodigy (of the mental arts) as a child and was in a prestigious school. He was thrown/flunked out of school after he decided to embrace his emotions sometime in his mid- to late teens. Later, he was banished for trying to convince others to follow his path.
> 
> ~ All this took place before Spock joined StarFleet.
> 
> ~ Sources don’t agree on the ages, but the general consensus is that Sybok was banished sometime in Spock’s mid-teen years

* * *

First Officer’s Personal Log, Stardate 6923.03: _Despite my initial reservations and the rather vapid behavior of my mother’s counterpart, I agreed to a ‘deal’ to which Adrian has proved to be an intriguing individual. Albeit, one with a perplexing and frequently trying habit of contradictory behavior._

_While in my solitary company Adrian showed himself to be reasonably intelligent and unexpectedly quick witted. However, in the company of the others he persists in displaying the tedious and almost child-like antics of gossiping, ‘small talk’, and taking an excessive interest in my personal life._

_I had yet to come to a suitable reason for his conduct before Adrian dismissed himself to attend hi children –though as by then we had achieved the necessary changes to the communications array and are currently waiting for the ‘other side’ to acknowledge our hails, his presence was no longer required._

_I am currently preparing for a reception to which the senior officers, my parents, and their counterparts have been asked to attend. I admit myself conflicted as while I have achieved a passable rapport with Adrian, the prospect of ‘mingling’ as the good doctor calls it, with my father’s counterpart is. . .daunting._

* * *

       Spock stood stiffly, hands clasped behind his back, exactly 4 feet from his chair and 3.3 feet from the door. The position he usually maintained during such events unless tasked with that most tedious of undertakings: small talk. Fortunately, that was rarely the case. Unfortunately, this event was for his parents and their counterparts.

       As if to highlight that fact, Spock’s ears caught the unmistakable sound of his mother’s light chuckle and the quiet murmur of a Southern drawl. Spock glanced over to see his mother and Dr. McCoy standing together and talking for too happily for any good to come of it. In fact, Spock calculated the probability that they were exchanging tales about him to be 93.7%; he would likely spend the next several weeks, perhaps months, being regaled by them.

       Seeing Spock staring dolefully at them, Dr. McCoy smiled and gave the Vulcan a cheeky wave. Spock turned his gaze back to where his father, Lt. Uhura, and his father’s counterpart had been talking, only to find the group had disbanded.

       “Commander.”

       Spock stilled at the detached voice, instinctively checking and re-enforcing his controls, before turning to face the speaker.

       “Lady Ambassador,” Spock intoned, inclining his head.

       “Sevel,” she corrected. “You will call me Sevel, as any other title would be rather sententious of me given my counterparts role in your life.”

       “As you will,” Spock replied warily.

       He may have acquiesced to Adrian’s demands, but that was mainly due to the man’s similarities to Amanda and Spock’s desire for peace. This Vulcan however was far too much like Spock’s father for him to be comfortable; particularly the way her dark, almost black, red eyes stared at him, as if she was judging his worth as a Vulcan. Spock found if distinctly disconcerting that this other was able to elicit such a response in him.

       Then her eyes moved to inspect the rest of him, lingering for brief moments on the awards decorating his chest and the rank bars on his wrists.

       “Your father spoke at length of you,” the woman informed him, and Spock pondered for a moment whether she was speaking of her husband or Sarek. “I have learned much, however there is one line of interest he was unable to satisfy: why service yourself to StarFleet?”

       “It was the logical course of action,” Spock answered reflexively.

       “So I have gathered,” the ambassador replied dryly. “Enlighten me to the reasoning.”

       Spock considered the request.

       “My decision, while made in haste, was based on a series of compounding factors,” Spock said slowly, mulling over the various ways to answer. The slightly raised brow the woman gave him indicated only the most thorough answer would do, and Spock resigned himself to the interrogation. “From what I have gathered speaking to your husband, your children accompany you on your assignments, spending little time on Vulcan”

       Sevel nodded.

       “I did not accompany my parents unless the assignment was expected to last at least six months, of which there were only two such happenings,” Spock stated. “That is until I reached the age of seven, when it was decided my education should not be interrupted and I remained on Vulcan full time with very few off world excursions.

       “Many were. .displeased with my parent’s decision to marry, more so with my birth. My youth was. . .a trial.”

       Sevel’s eyes narrowed to slits.

       “The year I was to apply to the VSA, I accompanied my parents on one of their yearly visits to Earth. During my time there, I became entangled in the machinations of several conflicting parties,” Spock continued, choosing his words with deliberate care. “My interest in pursuing the problem to its conclusion coupled with the, to be blunt, disparaging remarks regarding my parentage I was subjected to during my preliminary interview with the school board, lead to my placement in StarFleet Academy."

       “I see. We shall speak no more of this beyond one last query. Are you satisfied with your chosen path?”

       That was not a question Spock had been expecting. In fact, it was not even one he had ever considered being asked by anyone other than his mother. The woman raised her brow, and Spock realized he had been silent for over a minute.

       “Yes,” he answered lowly. “I am.”

       Sevel stared heavily at him before giving a decisive nod. “Very well,” she consented crisply. “ _One_ child in StarFleet is acceptable.”

       With that Sevel turned sharply on her heel, walking away to join her husband as he spoke animatedly with Kirk. As Kirk waved everyone to the table to begin the meal, Spock debated telling the woman the fate that befell his brother. Watching the family settle themselves, and the way the older girl inspected the height of the chairs before directing Adrian to sit and hold the tiny three-year-old in his lap so she could see the table top, Spock decided to maintain his silence.

* * *

        McCoy’s fingers twitched and flexed around his cutlery as he stared at the displaced family. His eyes narrowing as they moved from the laidback Human male stacking his fruit cube appetizers with a spoon and attempting to persuade his children it was a reasonable thing to do, all while carrying on a cheerful conversation with Uhura about. . .something or another; to the two children –the eldest of whom was explaining the logic, or rather the lack there of, of the mans’ behavior, while the youngest listened intently. .and occasional added a carrot to the growing monstrosity; McCoy’s eyes finally landed on the stiff, cold Vulcan woman who was resolutely ignoring the doings of her partner. McCoy’s eyes were drawn back to the children at the sound of –not that he would ever admit it– the cutest little yawn.

       “And four, three, two,” Adrian counted down softly, checking his wrist watch. “One.”

       Saavik immediately leaned back against her father and closed her eyes.

       “Right on time. Sweet dreams, princess,” Adrian chuckled, carefully standing up and adjusting the sleeping girl. “Got her mothers’ punctuality.”

       “So cute,” Uhura cooed quietly, but frowned worriedly. “Does she always fall asleep like that?

       “The behavior is normal for Vulcan children at this age,” Sevel answered, walking over with Sylen.

       “Though normally, we’d already have her bed by now with either Sylen or my wife having walked her through some basic meditation, so it’s not quite so abrupt,” Adrian assured, as he adjusted his daughter to a more comfortable position. “But today’s been. . . Well, weird so I’m not surprised she just collapsed like this.”

       “The arboretum would be an acceptable place for her to rest,” Sylen suggested, placing down her glass. “I shall stay with her and meditate.”

       With that the girl turned on her heel and began walking to the door.

       “Aren’t you going to say good night to your dad?” Adrian called after her, with a wink to the shamelessly watching room as he turned to follow.

       “No,” Sylen answered flatly. “As I do not have a ‘dad’ it would be pointless.”

       “Ah, I see you want to call me ‘daddy’ too!” Adrain exclaimed happily.

       “Most assuredly not,” Sylen replied curtly, completely unmoved by the man’s wounded look, though the humor in his eyes was clear.

       “Hm, how ‘bout ‘Papa’?”

       “No.”

       “Padreʹ?”

       “Distasteful.”

       “Pappy?”

       “Abhorrent.”

       “Pop?”

       “Juvenile.”

       “Outo-sama?”

       “Odious.”

       “Chi-chi?”

       “Insipid.”

       “You’re being particularly picky today. Oh! How about–”

       The door slid shut, cutting them off, and as one all eyes turned to Sevel in a silent demand for an explanation.

       “An on-going amusement for them,” the woman stated, as Kirk waved everybody to the table.

       “Sounds more like an argument to me.” McCoy muttered, eye twitching. They were a comedy act –the whole family. That had to be it. It was joke, a ridiculous ploy designed to mess with everyone’s head –his in particular. He'd blame Spock, but the ruddy hobgoblin didn't have a funny bone in his green blooded body.

       “Undoubtedly because it began as such,” Sevel acknowledged dryly, raising a brow at the expectant looks sent her way. “My eldest daughter was less than pleased with my decision to remarry and made her opinion on my chosen quite clear by avoiding the usage of any parental term toward Adrian. My husband proved himself equally stubborn by refusing proper address.”

       “You make it sound like I’m deliberately difficult,” Adrian remarked as he strolled back into the room, briefly meeting his wife’s paired fingers with his own as he took his seat. “I simply don’t think she should call both her fathers the same thing, and frankly I’m not a fan of ‘Sa-mehk;’ it doesn’t suit me.”

       “As of yet, they have not settled on a suitable address,” Sevel concluded.

       “On the bright side, I now know almost 300 different words for father, though personally I’m rather fond of ‘my mother’s Human,’” Adrian admitted with a grin. “It’s what Sylen called me for most of that first year.”

       McCoy frowned and resisted the urge to bury his head in his hands as staring at them made his whole head ache. He had long since got used to the idea of Spock’s parents being together, to the point that despite how crazy he thought a Human-Vulcan couple was, McCoy could see how they just. . . Well, fit together, but for the life of him, McCoy could not figure out Adrian and Sevel. They were complete and utter opposites. And not the kind that should attract. So how?

       “‘How’ what, Doctor?”

       McCoy flushed slightly, realizing he had not only spoken out loud but done so while staring intently at the Vulcan woman.

       “I was wondering how you two met, ma’am. We’ve all heard their story,” McCoy nodded to Sarek and Amanda, “but I just can’t see –and no offense intended– it workin’ for the two of you, and I can’t see how ya ended up together.”

       Sevel and Adrian exchanged a brief look, while McCoy fought the urge to fidget under the weight of their children’s stares.

       “You are not the first to wonder, nor do I believe you will be the last,” Sevel replied evenly, setting down her fork and neatly lacing her fingers together. “It was a long, oft’ tedious process, and in truth I did not see the logic of such a union until it was very near too late to bond.”

        “Of course, how we met, how we fell in love, and how we ended up married are three different, only vaguely related tales,” Adrian added.

        “Oh?” Uhura leaned forward, smiling eagerly.

       “Yup. In fact, you could argue I was one of Sevel’s diplomatic assignments,” Adrian grinned.

       “Certainly among the most tedious of them,” Sevel added dryly, causing Adrian to wince.

       “Do tell,” Amanda half asked, half demanded, several other nodding in agreement. “Well, it, er, really isn’t that interesting–”

       “He shook my mentor’s hand,” Sevel stated flatly. “Rigorously.”

       “In my defense, I was busy at the moment, and didn’t know who’s hand I was shaking!” Adrian protested with a groan at the muffled laughter.

        “And when informed,” Sevel continued, “proceeded to ask, and I quote: ‘Well, I hope you enjoyed it at least.’”

       “I was barely 16, and too humiliated to think straight. I just blurted out the first thing in my head,” Adrian muttered, face bright red as McCoy doubled over with laughter. “It’s not like I meant anything by it!”

        “I can see how that made for an interesting beginning,” Kirk commented diplomatically, hiding his amusement behind his glass.

        “Yes, well my complete humiliation aside,” Adrian sniffed, waving a hand dismissively. “The rest of my time on Vulcan was, thankfully, nowhere near as mortifying.”

       “If that’s just the beginning of your story, I’m almost afraid to ask about the rest,” Amanda chuckled, eyes sparkling with amusement. “But I’ve always been curious, so go ahead, what happened next?”

       “Nothing much,” Adrian shrugged. “In fact, we didn’t even see each other for the better part of two years.”

       “Curious,” Sarek remarked. “Was that due to your studies?”

       "Well, in part I suppose so," Adrian nodded. "How'd you know?"

       "I was finishing the last of my student teacher hours,” Amanda answered. "Partly how we met."

       “You're a. . .teacher?” Adrian repeated, the words rolling awkwardly off his tongue while his wife pursed her lips in disbelief.

       “Yes. You’re not?” Amanda asked, head tilted in surprise.

       “Nope.”

       “Then what do you do?” Scott asked.

       “A little of this and a little of that,” Adrian answered, idly waving his fork about. “For the most part though, I just keep doing what I did when we met.”

       “Which was,” McCoy prompted impatiently.

       “Photo journalism.”

       “My husband specializes in socio-cultural _documentation_ using the medium of images,” Sevel elaborated at the looks of disbelief.

       “Sounds like an interesting job,” Uhura commented politely. “So, how’d you fall in love?”

       Sevel stared blankly at her, before turning and raising brow at Adrian.

       “Ah yes, that fateful day almost four years ago when she back handed a Klingon half-way across a room in defense of my honor,” Adrian recalled, smiling at the memory, and seemingly oblivious to the astounded looks of his audience. “I fell head over heels, no going back; professed my undying love and devotion on the spot, and vowed to prove it even if it meant following her from one end of the galaxy to the other.”

       Heads swiveled to Sevel, eyes wide.

       “He did,” Sevel confirmed, and despite the dry tone there was a layer of warmth in her eyes, “and he has.”

       “Come to think of it, screaming out my intentions might be why they took such an interest,” Adrian muttered.

       “Klingons?! What the devil were you doing with Klingons?” Kirk demanded.

       “The bi-yearly negotiations,” Sevel answered. “While ‘successful’ would be an overstatement, they Klingon representatives that year were unusually helpful.”

       “Wait, so you proposed at a negotiation. . _with Klingons_?” Uhura tone suggesting she was caught somewhere between scandalized and amused.

       “Well, we sort of both proposed,” Adrian answered, running a hand through his hair with a thoughtful frown. “I proposed right after she decked the Klingon, and got turned down. Can’t say I blame her really, looking back I kind of just blurt it out.”

       “You did less a proposition, more a screaming demand,” Sevel reminded.

       “Yeah, I did kind of just yell it, didn’t I?” Adrian grinned sheepishly, and then frowned. “Come to think of it though, that might be why the Klingons decided to ah, ‘help’ me.”

       “Help you?” Spock asked.

       “Er, yeah, well it wasn’t exactly help from where I was standing. More like active sabotage,” Adrian grumbled. “Anyway, about a year later she up and decides to take me up on my offer.”

       “I recall you being quite clueless at the time,” Sevel added. “It was a year ago, at the time, and there was no context! I had no idea what you were talking about,” Adrian protested with a shrugged, and turned back to the eagerly listening group. “She had to spell it out for me and basically proposed herself. Although, looking back it was more like you ordered me to marry you.”

       “It was originally your desire. I concluded it was logical, therefore it was necessary to ensure you adhered to it,” Sevel stated firmly.

       “So beautiful when she’s possessive,” Adrian noted wistfully.

       Sevel gave him a look.

       “So anyway,” Adrian continued, clearing his throat and avoiding his wife’s eyes. “We got married, and I am now a member of the clan with the unpronounceable name.

       “Still can’t say it?” Amanda asked with a playful smile. “Nope, and honestly I don’t even feel safe trying anymore.”

       “Don’t feel safe?” Sarek asked.

       “The last time he tried to say my clan name he actually said a highly offensive Tellerite curse,” Sevel explained.

       “Ambassador Gav has an equally offensive left hook,” Adrian muttered, rubbing his jaw with a grimace. “Spent four hours getting my jaw relocated and nose put back together.”

       “A process you were unconscious for while I had to negotiate with an aggrieved Tellerite female,” Sevel reminded flatly. “It took 18 days before she would see me.”

       “And the two of you are all the closer for it,” Adrian pointed out. “Not to mention her wonderful reparation gift.”

       “Reparation gift?” Sarek asked, raising a brow at the Human male’s wistful expression.

       “Amb. Gav wished to commemorate our renewed and deepened alliance, and was convinced by a mutual acquaintance of ours that a traditional celebration of matrimony was the preferred course of action.”

       “Crass convinced Gav to marry us in the Tellerite way,” Adrian translated. “Not sure how, pretty sure I know why, but glad she did either way.”

        “Isn’t a traditional Tellerite marriage preformed with mud?” Scott asked, frowning as he tried to recall whether that was true or not.

        “It is a specially mixed mineral composite,” Sevel corrected stiffly.

       “Expensive, sort of healthy for you wet dirt; in other words, high class mud. And I can say with absolute certainty that my wife looks beautiful even covered in mud,” Adrian added with a smirk.

       “Which marriage was that?” Uhura asked.

       “The fifth/sixth,” the couple answered.

       “Wait, wait, wait!” McCoy ordered. “You’ve been married five. .six?”

       “18, or so I've been told,” Amanda answered, bemused.

       “ _Seven_ teen,” Adrian corrected, turning to Sevel. “Because _that one_ doesn’t count.”

       “Yes,” Sevel disagreed. “It does.”

       “It was a document, that I wasn’t even _conscious_ to sign. It does not count as a marriage,” Adrian protested. “Though it does beg the question of when you learn how to forge my signature.”

       “The records prove otherwise,” Sevel replied serenely. “And if your signature is on the document, then it stands to reason that naturally you signed it.”

       Adrian rolled his eyes in exasperation, but his retort cut off before it could begin when the comm unit rang out.

       “ _Bridge to Cpt. Kirk. We’ve got a signal_.”


End file.
